


Even the Tiniest Tricks Pack a Punch

by BennyBatch, Pinky_Wisteria



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Developing Friendships, Embedded Images, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Happy Ending, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki (Marvel) Is A Little Shit, M/M, Magical Accidents, Marvel Reverse Big Bang 2020, Minor Injuries, Pre-Relationship, Snarky Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Snarky Loki (Marvel), Snarky Tony Stark, The Tesseract (Marvel), Thor is a Good Bro (Marvel), Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, something tiny this way comes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:34:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27809956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BennyBatch/pseuds/BennyBatch, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinky_Wisteria/pseuds/Pinky_Wisteria
Summary: After a week of complete radio silence, Tony has had it. He knows Loki is up to something, and he’ll do whatever he can to get to the bottom of it, even if that means doing it all by himself. He just didn’t expect to find answers so close to home.
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Comments: 123
Kudos: 236
Collections: Marvel Reverse Big Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

“You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“Oh, that’s rich, Cap, coming from you.”

Steve didn’t say anything to that. He just frowned that disapproving frown that always seemed to find its way onto his face whenever Tony brought up something Captain Stick-up-his-ass didn’t find all that crucial to the safety of the city, or this time, the world at large.

“He’s been flying under the radar for a week! How does no one see a problem with that?” Tony aimed the question at the room. 

Natasha was as blank as always, and Bruce shifted nervously. The only person who seemed to listen to him was Clint, but all he did was throw his head back and laugh, and through his laughter he asked, “Really, Stark?”

“Real—what do you mean ‘ _really_ ’?” 

Clint sobered as flabbergasted anger colored Tony's tone. 

“You called us all in here,” Clint started, “to, what? Tell us that Loki is missing?”

“Yes!”

“And?”

Tony’s shoulders slumped. 

There was no way...but there was. Clint was serious. They all were.

He gnashed his teeth together.

“You guys are really telling me you don’t care that Loki, top of the list for SHIELD’s most wanted, is missing. You don’t care that he may be working with some other baddie in a cave somewhere offshore, or that he could be dead”—Thor whined—“in a ditch somewhere—”

“So what?” Clint interjected, tossing his boots up onto the conference table, fingers interlocking behind his head. “Good riddance, I say, and about time, too.”

Thor, at least, had the decency to look offended at Clint’s flippant remarks.

“I agree with the Man of Iron. Loki must be found at once.”

Clint huffed. 

“You’re only saying that because you still think your so-called brother—”

“He is my brother!”

“—has some chance at redemption. He doesn’t, Thor. I’ve caught a glimpse on what goes on inside that greasy, murderous head of his.”

“You know nothing of—”

“Guys!” Tony hollered, and, thankfully, the room fell silent. “That’s not the point.”

“What is your point, Tony?” 

It was Bruce who levied this question at him, but he felt Steve’s blue eyes boring into him as well, anticipatory and critical.

“My point is...we need to up our guard.” Tony’s gaze settled on and passed over each one of the gathered Avengers, letting the gravity of his words sink in. “Loki’s only been gone a week and I’ve noticed how we’ve slipped in security. We’re getting lax—”

Indignant huffs from across the table met this claim.

“Bullshit,” Clint said, unfurling himself to point a finger in Tony’s direction. “Maybe _you’ve_ gotten lax, or maybe you’re just paranoid. Regardless, this meeting is over.”

Clint shoved his chair back and stomped out without a backward glance. Natasha silently followed. Bruce at least shot him an apologetic glance before he, too, left the room, shoulders hunched as if to make himself smaller.

Tony sympathized. 

He knew Loki was a sore subject for the guy, but it couldn’t be helped. 

If Loki was missing, he needed to be found. That was the only way he, and subsequently SHIELD, could keep the slippery snake and any of his so-called compatriots on their radar; and, honestly, he couldn’t believe that he had to be the one to call this meeting. Fury was just as paranoid about nailing down Loki’s whereabouts as he was, so why? It didn’t make se—

Thor clapped a heavy hand against his shoulder, nearly sending Tony stumbling into the conference table’s edge; his responding glare lost some of its heat when he met hopeful blue eyes.

“I wish to thank you, Tony, for thinking of my brother.”

“Thor, that’s not—”

“If you require any assistance, you know where to find me.”

With a nod and another squeeze to Tony’s shoulder, Thor left, then only he and Steve remained.

Tony said nothing.

Steve cleared his throat.

“I know you think—”

“That I’m doing the right thing? That’s because I am. If you don’t want to help, if you think I’m overreacting or being paranoid, so be it. I’ll handle this one myself.

“Tony—”

“Catch you later, Cap.”

Whirling on his heel, Tony threw up deuces as he strode out of the conference room, heading straight for the elevators that would take him to his private floors. He leaned against the back wall when the doors closed.

“You don’t think I’m paranoid, do you?”

“Of course not, sir,” his AI’s smooth voice answered. Tony huffed, grinning.

“Not just saying that?”

“Never. The city has been, as you would put it, ‘too quiet.’ I admit that Loki’s disappearance and the subsequent lack of alarms dispersed throughout the city is disconcerting.”

“I knew you’d have my back, J.”

“Always, sir.”

Tony allowed himself to smile as the doors parted, revealing his private lab. 

As he stepped into the space, bright holographic screens bloomed across his vision, illuminating the space with illustrations of his latest suit schematics, tentative projects for Stark Industries, and the graph of Loki’s declining villainous activity over the past week.

It’s true that Loki had gone on hiatus before, but never for this long, and never with complete radio silence. 

Frowning at the screen, he knew he was onto something.

The rest of the Avengers could sit on their asses all they wanted—Loki was a squirrelly bastard, just biding his time to spring upon them when he saw an opening ripe with opportunity for ultimate devastation, and Tony also knew time would prove him right. So, with a determined huff and a squaring of his shoulders, he buried himself in preparations.

***

Tony awoke slowly, laboriously, and with a groan at his protesting back.

He’d fallen asleep over his desk, a habit of his that Jarvis managed to kick a couple of months back with his constant pestering and concern for his creator’s health. 

As he sat up, he peeled off the pen that somehow remained stubbornly adhered to his cheek and glanced at the clock hanging on the nearby wall. Unfortunately, however, due to, well, himself as a person and his persistent lack of self-care, he couldn’t discern how much time had passed.

“How long was I out, buddy?” he asked, rubbing at the red, pen-shaped mark on his cheek. Silence answered him.

“J?”

Again, silence, then a sudden flurry of static, as if his AI was desperately clawing at whatever force muted him. It was enough to have Tony scrambling to his feet. His heart thudded against his ribcage, his breath coming in ragged waves and he startled when a single, scratchy word managed to slip through the static—“Kitch-nnnnnnn.”

Without a second thought, Tony snatched up the closest prototype gauntlet that cluttered his desk and bolted for the door, but with Jarvis out for the count, it didn’t open automatically. 

He strained against the glass, using his whole body to force it open just far enough for him to squeeze himself through the gap. The arc reactor caught on the door’s edge; he hissed. Biting back a curse, he bounded up the stairs leading to the first level of his penthouse, haphazardly pulling the gauntlet over his fingers. Then, taking aim as it hummed to life, he stepped over the threshold, his eyes scanning over the familiar environment.

Rustling in the adjacent room put him on edge.

He swallowed. A bead of sweat traced its way down his temple. Then, he rounded the corner.

At first, he couldn’t see anything amiss. An immaculate kitchen, rarely used, stared back at him; not a meticulously placed fruit basket or vase (courtesy of Pepper) out of place. 

Everything was in order.

Everything, save for the one cabinet door left ajar. 

Tony’s mind raced—had he left it open? Not likely. It’s not like he was often in the kitchen anyway. He vaguely recalled sending DUM-E to the penthouse to fetch something for him to eat; maybe the bot thought the food was in there?

Wherever else his rambling mind wished to go, it was cut short when a soft rustling sound emitted from within the cabinet. However, rather than tensing up, Tony breathed a sigh.

At least, he thought, Loki couldn’t fit inside a cabinet. 

Now, as he approached the cabinet, gauntlet powering down, all he had left to wonder was how a mouse managed to chew through Jarvis’s wires enough to incapacitate him. That was an oversight he couldn’t let stand. He opened the cabinet.

Loki froze, his tiny fingers wrapped around the handle of a mug that was a bit taller than he was now, and he stared back at Tony, both of their eyes wide with shock.

Tony closed the door.

He stood there, his hand resting on the knob, blinking at the door’s dark, whorling grain. 

A soft knock on the other side startled him from his trance.

“Stark,” Loki called out, his voice small and a pitch higher than usual. “I know you’re still there.”

Tony ripped the door open again before giving himself time to think it over. 

Loki, apparently, had been leaning against the door, and the suddenness of Tony’s motion nearly sent him tumbling forward, but he managed to catch himself at the last moment, although his horned helm shifted down over his eyes in an undignified manner. He pushed it back with a scoff and a glare.

“Was that entirely necessary?” he demanded, but Tony wasn’t listening, his gaze a mile long as he mumbled, “Loki’s in my cupboards...why is Loki in my cupboards?” 

“I needed a mug for my tea,” Loki haughtily replied, gesturing toward the, by comparison, comically large tea bag leaning against the mug Loki had chosen for himself. “Do keep up.”

The gibe shook Tony out of his reverie. 

“What the hell did you do to Jarvis?”

“The ghost?” Loki shrugged. “I silenced it. Alarms give me terrible headaches, after all.”

“You—” Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “Remove your spell, Loki, or so help me—”

“I require your assistance,” Loki interjected.

Tony stared at him incredulously. “Why on earth would I help you?”

“You want your ghost back, don’t you?” Loki challenged.

Tony glowered but gave a short, clipped nod. Loki smirked.

“As you can see,” Loki began. “I am not my usual size.”

“Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Simply put, I need a place to lie low until I have the materials needed to reverse the spell.”

“But why me? Thor is—”

Loki scoffed. “I wouldn’t trust that oaf not to take me back to Asgard in chains.”

Tony had to admit that Loki had a point. “Would they even fit?” he asked.

“What?”

“The chains.”

He expected Loki to roll his eyes again, but he was surprised when Loki grinned. He was even more surprised when it appeared to be genuine this time.

“Perhaps not,” Loki admitted. “But the rest of your measly group of heroes would do me no better. Therefore, you are the perfect volunteer.”

“Volunteer?” Tony huffed. “You waltz into my tower, disable my A.I., and decide to volunteer me to be, what, your glorified babysitter?”

“I hardly require sitting.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

Loki shrugged. “That’s the gist of it, yes. My apartment is compromised. Thor would rather take me back to face Odin for the mischief I’ve caused here on Midgard than offer me safe haven, and I’m sure your Avengers would be keen to see me in chains as well.”

Tony nodded. Not long ago, he’d stumbled across SHIELD’s hopeful plans in the event they ever did manage to pin Loki down; Tony didn’t like what he found.

“So,” Loki said, green eyes striking. “Do we have a deal?”

Tony frowned at Loki’s proffered hand but, in the end, he extended his finger and they shook on it. The deal struck, Loki placed his fists on his hips, his stance wide in what was a clear attempt to appear both larger and more intimidating despite his current falsetto as he commanded, “Now, pick me up, mortal!”

Tony stared at him a moment longer before turning and walking away. He heard the tiny mage shout “Come back!” but, as Jarvis came back online, he decided another nap was in order. 

It was far too early to deal with this shit.


	2. Chapter 2

The late morning sun glinted through the slatted shades of his bedroom, and Tony raised his arm to cast a shadow over his eyes as he slowly awoke. Glancing off toward the bathroom, Jarvis readily presented the time (“11:47, sir”) and the weather (“partly cloudy with a 40% chance of rain at 3:00).

Tony stretched his arms above his head with a soft groan.

He hadn’t woken up in his own bed in ages. More often, he found himself waking up slumped over one of his workstations or curled up in some weird position on what had to be the world’s stiffest couch shoved in one of the darker corners of his workshop. Jarvis must have managed to convince him to come upstairs.

Wait.

Tony frowned. Then his eyes widened, and he shot up.

“Jarvis!”

“You’re unusually loud for the morning, sir.”

“You’re okay!”

“Yes, sir?” his greatest creation intoned, but Tony just slumped back against his pillow, a breath he didn’t realize he was holding escaping from his lips, making his chest sink.

“It was a dream, then,” Tony mumbled to himself, only to frown at his sullen tone.

“A dream?”

“Yeah. You were there, but then you weren’t. And—” he suddenly laughed, smacking his forehead. “And,” he tried again, “check it—Loki was there, too, right? But get this: he was tiny. Like, tiny tiny. Teenie tiny. Barely as tall as a mug even with the horns.”

He held his two pointer fingers up to his forehead as he said this, then he guffawed, clutching his stomach as his knees scrunched up.

“Yes, sir,” Jarvis said, voice even. “The Tiny Trickster is currently in the kitchen, threatening the espresso machine with bodily harm for refusing to cooperate.”

Tony froze. 

_What?_

He’d apparently said that out loud since Jarvis was kind enough to follow up with, “Shall I repeat myself, sir?”

“No, no,” he said, scrubbing a hand over his face. He stayed like that, his palm plastered over his nose and mouth as his fingers dug into his cheeks, forehead, and temples. Eventually, he sighed and forced himself out of bed. 

Better to get this over with now.

_Well_ , he thought, sniffing himself as he shifted, _maybe after a shower_.

With one more heaving sigh, he dragged his feet toward the bathroom and dropped his rumpled sleepwear haphazardly on the large marble vanity before stepping under the warm spray Jarvis had started before Tony’s toes even touched the ground. He tipped his head back and melted into it, letting the water wash motor oil, grease, and troubles down the drain. But when he opened his eyes again, all that came to mind was a playful smirk and flashing green eyes.

Loki.

Tony huffed and waved his hand for Jarvis to stop the water. As he draped a towel around his waist and used another to dry his hair, his mind circled back to the Trickster, or, more precisely, to the _why_. 

Why him?

Loki gave his reasons, albeit vague and half-assed. Tony could fill in the gaps.

He understood not going to Shield; that was a no-brainer. 

He could maybe see Loki going to the Avengers, but with Clint and Natasha on SHIELD’s payroll, plus Steve’s self-righteousness and Jolly Green’s apparent distaste for anything else being green, even Tony can admit that, as a whole, the Avengers wouldn’t be Loki’s safest bet. 

Same with Thor. 

Ever the older brother, Tony could tell that Thor cared about Loki, but that any trust that was once between them is gone. Even if Thor swore up and down that he would do his best to help Loki return to his former self, there would still be that niggling doubt in the back of Loki’s mind raising its hackles in preparation for the inevitable betrayal that may not come at all.

Tony knew the feeling all too well.

Frowning, he quickly repressed the memory of Obediah threatening to surface in favor of admitting that, if he were in Loki’s shoes, he would have done the same thing. Despite being Earth’s Greatest Defender and an Avenger, Tony was still the safest option Loki had.

Okay, so that answered the ‘why him’ question, but it still didn’t answer what was surely the most logical follow-up question—what the hell could he do to help?

It wasn’t like he had any experience with magic (and, no, he wasn’t going to count being at the receiving end of magical bullshit as 'experience'), and, being magical, he knew it wasn’t something he could science his way through.

He sighed for the umpteenth time as he bent at the waist, twisted the towel around his hair, and straightened until the towel sat in a perfect twist atop his head. Then he continued his morning routine: spray-on deodorant, floss, brush teeth, smush his nose looking for blemishes, smooth eyebrows, get dressed, spike the hair. 

Had it been any other day, the next and final step would be coffee. 

But, well, that was apparently already underway.

Sliding on a familiar hoodie, he set his shoulders back, straightening his spine, and made his way toward the kitchen. 

He stilled when he heard the faint, yet patronizing voice of his AI emanating from down the hall, but he continued on, stopping just shy of the kitchen to remain out of sight as a small, enraged voice replied, “I did as you said, ghost, and still this infernal machine fails!”

“The wa—”

“If you suggest I check the water levels for the third time, you will lose your tongue.”

Tony frowned at the tiny clicking sound he heard, but he realized that Loki must be pacing atop the counters. The visual his mind provided was nearly funny enough to have him sneak a glance at the real thing, but the pacing stopped before he had the chance, Loki continuing, “The cup is in place below the spout, as you so _helpfully_ ”—(it wasn’t very helpfully)—“reminded me. The machine’s thirst is quenched. I can see its full belly even now. What else is there?” 

By the final question, Loki’s voice had risen to a shout, but Jarvis remained calm.

“Did you slot the K-cup into the machine, Mr. Liesmith?” the AI asked.

A beat of silence.

Tony’s hand flew to cover his mouth and nose when a chortle bubbled up at the tell-tale pop of a punctured cup, now ready to brew, reached his ears. The machine sputtered to life; Loki whooped.

A smile broke out under his palm.

Maybe having Loki around wouldn’t be so bad.

“So,” Tony said, sauntering around the corner to reveal himself. Loki, then midair with his arms outstretched, landed with a sober expression and began appraising his nails. “Finally got the machine to work, huh?”

“Of course,” Loki scoffed, flicking his hair back over his shoulder. “Your mortal contraptions are not so complicated.”

Tony’s lip quirked. 

“Right. Well, good morning, in any case. That coffee for me?”

Loki blinked, his surprise at being addressed so nonchalantly written plainly on his face as his stance relaxed into something no longer so hostile. 

“It can be,” he replied. “I will make another for myself.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re my...what should I call you? My involuntarily acquired house guest?”

“That’s about as good a descriptor as any,” Loki smirked.

“Well, as my guest, let me make you a cup, or, uh...J, we got anything like a thimble?”

“Likely in your junk drawer, sir.”

“As if I'll ever find it in there,” he grumbled. Before he could begin his search, Loki waved his hand. 

“No need, Stark.”

Then, with nothing more than a flick of his wrist, a tiny green mug appeared in his grasp. Well, tiny in Tony’s eyes. It was proportionate to Loki, even though the mug was roughly the same size as Tony’s fingernail.

“Convenient.”

Loki grinned and held out his mug. Tony glanced between the mug and the Keurig, then he frowned.

“Yeah, that might not work. Wait a second.”

Loki lowered his hand as Tony darted off to open the farthest drawer beneath the countertop. He riffled through it, mumbling to himself before pulling out a pipette with a triumphant, “Aha!” At Loki’s curious look, he wiggled it between his fingers as he explained, “I stole a few of these bad boys from Brucie Bear’s lab last time I was down there, but is it really stealing if I’m the one paying for it?”

The Keurig kicked off then, and Tony pulled his mug out from under the spout. 

He slipped the pipette into the steaming liquid, drawing it up into the bulb before he motioned for Loki to set his mug down, allowing Tony to fill it nearly to the brim. He should have asked if Loki needed room for cream or sugar, but, well—he eyed where the coffee precariously lapped at the rim of the mug—bit late for that. Hopefully Loki doesn’t mind.

Like any good host, he waited until Loki pulled his mug against his chest before picking up his own.

He took a swig. 

Then, setting his mug to the side, he exhaled, his breath hot and tongue slightly scalded with a leftover hint of the coffee’s deliciousness, before he blinked down into the dark brew. _Wait_ , he thought, _did that mean_..?

“You knew this mug would be too big for you,” Tony observed. Loki’s brows drew together, but Tony could see the corners of the Trickster’s mouth curl up despite his attempt to hide it behind his own tiny mug.

“I did.”

Tony fought against the heat rising into his cheeks at Loki’s admission.

“You...really did make this for me.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

Loki tilted his head, and, God, why did Tony find it so endearing? Must be because he’s so tiny...yeah, that’s it. No other reason.

“I am your guest,” Loki said, startling Tony out of his reverie. 

“And..?”

“What sort of guest would I be if I did not offer my thanks for your hospitality?”

Tony scratched at the back of his neck, unsure how to respond to Loki’s unusual genuineness. Eventually, he sighed, “About that…”

He didn’t notice Loki’s fingers tense around his mug.

“What exactly do you expect of me?” Tony asked, glancing at Loki. To his surprise, the tiny mage seemed taken aback.

“I’m not sure I understand your meaning,” Loki admitted.

“Well, I suppose what I mean is to ask what the goal is here.” Tony twirled his finger in the space between them, gesturing both at the two of them while encompassing everything else around them. “You know I can’t fix what you got going on,”—Loki chuckled into his mug— “so I want to know what you expect from me.”

“Nothing at all, Stark.”

“Tony.”

“Pardon?”

“You’re my guest, right? Guests call me Tony.”

Tony swallowed around the lump of what he told himself was just coffee stuck in his esophagus at Loki’s answering smile.

“Tony, then.”

Tony took a long swig of his coffee, ignoring the fact that it was still scalding his throat before he set it aside and cleared his throat. “So..?”

Loki shrugged, and when no answer seemed forthcoming, Tony sighed.

“Alright, keep your secrets.”

“Gladly.”

Tony snorted, coffee splattering up and onto his hand. Licking it away, he pressed, “You at least have to tell me how this happened. I deserve that much.”

“Hmm, yes, I suppose you do.” Loki paused to drink from his mug. Even tiny, his movements were still full of a languid grace only possible through years, or, in Loki’s case, a millennium of practice. Now it appeared effortless; but as Loki opened his mouth to continue speaking, Tony noticed the barest hint of artifice lurking beneath his words. 

“Amora found me,” he said. “She managed to locate my apartment after attempting various methods to do so, and when she succeeded, she demanded I help her draw Thor’s gaze.” Loki rolled his eyes with a scoff; Tony hid his grin behind another sip. “I refused. She retaliated. Here we are.”

His explanation was almost convincing. 

Almost.

“Alright,” Tony drawled. “Now why don’t you tell me what really happened.”

Loki stiffened, surprised, but then he laughed. A tiny, bell-like sound.

“I’m impressed, St—Tony,” he corrected, smirking. 

Tony shrugged. “Sniffing out lies has become something of a necessity the past few years of my life. So,” he prodded, lifting his brows, “Go on. Spill it.”

His smirk not faltering, Loki explained, “Seiðr backfire.”

“Huh? No, wait. I gotta sit down for this.”

Tony rounded the island, perching himself on one of the six bar stools lining the other side before motioning for Loki to continue, his fingers curling around his mug as he gave Loki his full attention, but before Loki could go on, Jarvis interrupted with an urgent, “Sir, Master Odinson is—”

“Shit.”

Before he could consider the consequences, he rocketed to his feet, snatched Loki up while ignoring the mage’s indignant squawks, and stuffed him into the front pocket of his hoodie just as Thor entered the penthouse, a slight frown on his face.

“Friend Tony,” he began, causing Loki to cease his struggling, “I apologize for my sudden appearance.”

“No problem, buddy.” Tony cleared his throat, praying that his voice sounded steadier than he felt. “What’s up?”

It was strange, Tony thought, to see the normally confident and boisterous Asgardian shift from foot to foot, his fingers toying with Mjolnir’s leather strap, voice unusually soft as he said, “I wanted to thank you again for thinking of my brother. Not many would be so chivalrous.”

Tony replied with a good-natured laugh, clapping the other man on the shoulder. “Think nothing of it, Point Break. Consider it part of my ever-present paranoia.”

Thor shook his head. “You are a good man, Friend Tony.”

Tony shrugged and bit the inside of his cheek as he offered a tight smile that he swiftly covered with another swig of coffee. “Yeah,” he sighed, “well—”

“I found his apartment.”

Tony’s voice died in his throat. Then, using his mug to cover a cough, he pinched his brows together and urged Thor to continue.

“Loki had been quiet for some time, as you rightfully pointed out,” Thor began, turning to pace the length of the countertop. “Knowing my brother, I knew that his silence was only the calm before the storm. I kept vigilant.” Thor paused then, arms moving to clasp behind his back before he whirled on his heel to face him. “Yesterday, as the day drew to a close, I felt an outburst of Loki’s seiðr, and I was able to trace the residuals back to the source.”

Loki froze within the confines of his sweatshirt. Whether he was simply shocked at Thor’s show of intelligence and ingenuity or frightened by its implications, Tony didn’t know; but he did know that he was impressed.

Tony whistled.

“Brains and brawn. You really do got it all, don’t’cha?”

Thor laughed, boisterous, any hint of apprehension present previously now absent. Fondness soon appeared as he admitted, “I may have picked up a few tricks of my own over the years.”

Tony huffed, his lips curling in amusement.

Thor watched him with a small smile of his own before striding up to him, and Tony tried not to jolt when two large hands plopped down onto his shoulders and the significantly taller man bent down to meet his eyes. He may have winced when Thor squeezed.

“In all seriousness, Tony, if you require assistance locating my brother”—Thor gently shook him—“Contact me. You have my hammer.”

And, while he was sure the hammer wasn’t needed, Tony nodded.

It was all he could think to do.

Thankfully, that seemed to be enough of a response for the Asgardian who also gave a solemn nod of his own before releasing Tony from his grip and beaming.

“I apologize for taking up so much of your morning,” he said.

“No problem, big guy.”

Silence fell over them, then. Tony sipped at his coffee, Thor watched him almost expectantly, and before the awkwardness could curdle under his skin, Tony offered to make Thor a cup, but the man shook his head.

“No, thank you. Unlike my brother, I am not fond of your brown liquid.”

Tony snorted and shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Something else seemed to be on the tip of the Asgardian’s tongue, but he merely shook his head and thanked him again. Tony waited until the elevator doors closed and Jarvis announced Thor’s descent before deciding it safe enough to take Loki out.

Sticking his hand into his pocket, he waited until he felt Loki step up onto his palm and felt tiny arms circling his finger before he pulled the mage out and set him back down on the counter. Tony then chuckled nervously as he said, “That was close, huh?” but the look on Loki’s face was enough to make him pause. The mage’s lips were pursed, his brows drawn together, arms pressed tightly to his sides. Loki wasn't even looking at him.

Before Tony could voice his concern, Loki said, “You had your chance to be rid of me, yet you didn’t give me up.” Then, meeting Tony’s eyes, he demanded, “Why?”

“What do you mean? I thought we were really hitting it off, Reindeer Games,” Tony winked, but apparently, his joke fell flat. Loki still wore a grave expression. “Look,” he continued, “you came to me in your time of need, right? No matter what anybody says about me, if you seek me out, I’ll do anything within my power to help.”

“That could be dangerous,” Loki said darkly.

Tony huffed, “Yeah, tell me about it.”

A few seconds of tense silence passed between them as they eyed each other down until, finally, it broke with simultaneous laughter.

“Alright,” Tony said, grinning. “Let’s see what we can do about finding you a new apartment.”

“You’ll pay for it, I assume.”

“Don’t press your luck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Hope you guys enjoy it as much as the last one 🥰 and I hope you think the art is as adorable as I do!


	3. Chapter 3

Tony was in the midst of running Loki through the pros and cons of the seventh apartment in Jarvis’s quickly compiled list of 83 options that, through a process of elimination, Tony had determined would suit the man’s refined tastes, before the tiny man let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I boring you?”

“Immensely.”

Tony barked a laugh at Loki’s honesty.

“This was your idea, you know.”

Loki let out another sigh and rolled his eyes. “I distinctly recall you insisting to help me,” he said. “I never asked.”

“Huh,” Tony muttered, tapping his chin. “Yeah, that sounds like something I would do...so, this one a no?”

“It’s a no.”

Tony scoffed, “Why? This one is higher up, just like you wanted, and it even has a rooftop garden plot.” Tony gesticulated, pointing toward the hologram sporting an overhead, blue-tinged view of the garden plots. A few plots sported various flowers, like lavender and roses, though the majority contained a variety of vegetables, including tomatoes, potatoes, lettuce, and more. All in all, very quaint and idealistic for New York City. And damn hard to find. “If I remember correctly,” he continued, turning to lift a brow at the mage, “this was one of your must-haves.”

“It was.”

“Then why?”

Rather than answer, Loki pursed his lips and dropped his gaze into the recesses of his long-since-empty mug. Tony heaved a soft sigh of his own.

“I won’t tell him where you live, you know.”

Loki’s gaze flicked back up to lock with his, and Tony could see just how tense he was.

“I won’t tell any of them.”

“You swear it?” Loki asked, bright green eyes narrowing.

“Course,” Tony shrugged.

A beat of silence stretched out between them at that easy promise, but eventually Tony felt Loki begin to relax, his posture curving slightly, no longer ramrod straight or defensive.

“Maybe.”

“Huh?”

He’s sure Loki would deny it, but the man puffed out his tiny cheeks at Tony’s lack of comprehension before he articulated, “The apartment. It’s a maybe.”

Tony pumped his fist with a drawn-out ‘yes’ and flashed Loki a smile. “One out of seven ain’t too bad. Now, what do you think about—”

“Stark—Tony,” Loki quickly corrected, “Please, we’ve been at this for ages.”

Despite his disappointed huff, Tony acquiesced easily. He waved his hand and Jarvis removed the displays, though Tony squinted, not realizing how dim the room had gotten now that the glow of the holograms had vanished.

“Lights,” he called out. “But keep ‘em mellow, J.”

The room gently flooded with a warm, orange-toned light that provided almost immediate relief to his strained vision. Then, reaching out to Loki, he said, “Here.”

“Pardon?”

“Your mug. Let me take that for you.”

“No need to trouble yourself,” Loki said, and, not a moment later, the mug he once clasped was gone. Vanished into thin air. 

Tony recalled Thor having mentioned something about Loki’s ‘pocket dimensions,’ having had a few of his possessions end up missing only to fall out of the sky to thump him over the head sometime later. He understood how they worked (theoretically, at least), but he wondered if Loki had several or one large pocket. If he had a single large one, how did he find anything? Was there a system? And if he had several, how did he keep them straight? Would that mean, then, that Loki has a dirty dish pocket dimension? Was that where he sent that poor, teeny tiny mug? Forever coffee-stained; never to be used again. 

Tony snorted to himself as he dropped his mug into the sink, unaware of Loki’s suspicious gaze, then cleared his throat.

“So,” he said, “you can summon and dispel. Neat.”

Loki’s gaze narrowed further. “I suppose it is.”

Tony inclined his head and whirled on his heel, heading toward the fridge. Opening the door, he stepped in close to peruse his options. He eventually grabbed a small carton of blueberries from the ‘FRESH ONLY’ shelf before leaning back just enough to peek around the door to ask Loki, “You want anything? We got…” He turned back to the fridge, calling them out as he saw them, “Strawberries, raspberries, salad, uh, garlic stuffed olives, various cheeses and meats, and”—he bent at the knee, face scrunching up—“Jarvis, what the hell is that?”

“Kumquat, sir.”

“And kumquat, whatever the hell that is.”

“Native to China, the kumquat is a citrus fruit that closely resembles an orange with a bit of sweetness to them, though their flavor profile leans heavily toward sour. They are typically used to make marmalades, citrus dishes, and various liqueurs and cocktails.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“Why, just...why? Kumquats...okay, cool, yeah, so we also got kumquats. Did any of that sound good to you?”

He glanced over at Loki again and his heart skipped a beat.

Loki was smiling.

Not that manic, beguiling, mischievous grin Tony often found himself on the other end of during Loki’s confrontations with the Avengers. No, this was softer. It didn’t stretch across his face, but it didn’t need to; it lit up his eyes. It was an expression he’d never seen on the other man’s face, one that he wouldn’t mind seeing again and again. Though, almost as soon as he saw it, it was gone. Replaced by Loki’s usual impassive façade. 

Tony quietly mourned its loss, but Loki’s voice cut through his mind.

“Raspberries, please.”

“Yeah,” he said, “sure thing.”

He stacked the raspberries on top of his carton of blueberries, elbowed the fridge door shut, strolled back to where Loki sat on the counter, and slid the raspberries toward him, forgetting, just for a moment, how tiny the other man was until Loki had to use his body to stop the carton’s momentum. It pushed him back an inch.

Not wanting to embarrass him, Tony looked the other way and asked, “So...seiðr backfire, huh?”

 _God damn it_ , _Tony_ , he thought, mentally facepalming as Loki groaned.

“I hoped you had forgotten.”

“No such luck, Prancer.”

Green eyes narrowed at him, unimpressed, Tony assumed, by his perfectly acceptable nickname, and Tony responded by wiggling his brows, smirking when Loki simply rolled his eyes. “I attempted to shrink the cube,” he said. And he said it so easily, too, as if it wasn’t one of the stupidest, most ludicrously dangerous and insane things Tony had ever heard in his natural-born life. So, Tony gaped as Loki popped open the carton of raspberries.

“Is...is that even possible?”

Loki scoffed, “Apparently not.”

“Why?”

“Because the Tesseract didn’t appreciate being tampered with—”

“No,” Tony interjected, slicing his hand through the air. “No, just—why’d you do it?”

“The Tesseract, though infinitely powerful, is cumbersome to hold. The corners dig uncomfortably into my palms, and it is nigh impossible to store in any pocket, especially now,” he said, ruffling his cloak as if that would illustrate just how right he was. All he had done, though, was prove Tony’s initial assessment correct. And, not only was it definitely one of the stupidest things Tony had ever heard, but Loki did it for the stupidest reason. Well, maybe he couldn’t truly say ‘stupidest.’ Tony had done far more for less reason than that, after all; the arc reactor stood testament to that. 

“Pocket dimensions are a viable option,” Loki continued, cutting through Tony’s rambling thoughts. “But accessing them in the midst of battle is...troublesome.

“ _Sooo_ ,” Tony drawled, smirking, “you admit that us lowly Avengers can kick your ass enough to distract you, huh.”

Loki stared at him, a single raspberry clutched against his chest.

“I’m leaving,” he said. 

“No, no, sorry. I’ll shut up.” Tony drew two pinched fingers over his lips, making a zipping sound, and met Loki’s gaze with a doe-eyed look of his own. Innocence incarnate. He then nodded his head, prompting Loki to go on with his story. However, Loki remained silent for a moment longer, as if testing to be sure that Tony would keep his promise of silence. 

“I thought, perhaps,” he continued when Tony kept quiet, “by making it smaller, the Tesseract would be easier to wield, therefore granting me even more control over its wealth of power.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. That makes complete and total sense.” It didn’t. It really didn’t. “But it didn’t work.”

“No,” Loki confirmed.

“How did you end up like this, then?”

Loki sighed and lifted the raspberry just high enough to take the smallest bite out of one of the many small drupelets clustered at the fruit’s tip. 

_Buying time_ , Tony thought. Though patience, he was told, was a virtue; so, he waited.

Before long, Loki swallowed.

“When I cast the minimizing spell, it did work. The cube became roughly the size of this berry, and it seemed to glow more brilliantly, too. Almost blindingly so.”

Tony’s brows raised. “But you just said—”

“It only worked for the barest fraction of a second,” Loki cut in, eyes flicking up to meet Tony’s. “That brilliance, I learned, was rejection. The Tesseract expelled my magic, releasing a shockwave of blue and green that sent me flying into the walls of my apartment hard enough that everything faded to black. When I came to, I was as you see me now. Minimized. A perfect reflection of what I intended. That is what happened.”

Loki glanced away, shrugging. “Admittedly, it could have been much worse.”

Tony frowned. To him, the solution seemed rather obvious. “Well, why don’t you just do it again?” he asked, popping a blueberry into his mouth. Incredulous, Loki blinked back at him. 

“Are you….did you not listen to a word I just said? The cube—”

“No, no, I was listening.”

“So then you know why I can’t just—”

“But what if you reversed the spell?”

“Pardon?” Loki asked, and Tony appraised him. Although he had clearly irritated the other man by cutting him off twice, Loki now appeared pensive. Curious. Tony could work with that.

“You said you tried to minimize it, right?” Tony asked, waiting for Loki’s nod before continuing. “Well, what if you biggify it?”

“Enlarge it, you mean.”

“That’s what I said.”

Loki huffed before his brows pinched together, lips pursed as a finger began tapping on his chin.

“You know,” he started, “that might just be stupid enough to work.”

“That is my brand,” Tony winked.

“There’s no need to tell me something I already know,” Loki replied, making Tony howl with laughter.

When Tony finally calmed, wiping at a stray, mirthful tear clinging to his lashes, he asked, “When do we start?”

By way of answer, Loki waved his hand, and the Tesseract materialized before him. It stood a few centimetres taller than Loki, easily engulfing him in its cold blue light when it only swallowed Tony’s cheeks where he stood a few paces back. Still, despite the breadth of separation, it made Tony shudder. Silence brewed between them, then, as Loki frowned at the cube and Tony glanced between them, eager to begin yet nervous to start.

Eventually, Loki spoke.

“It would be beneficial for you to take a few steps back.”

Tony did just that, hasty in his retreat. Loki assumed a more solid stance, fingers and lips moving as he began to work his magic.

“J,” he called out.

“Recording started, sir.”

Loki’s eyes flashed, but it was too late. His spell shot forward with a sharp flash of green, striking the Tesseract at its heart. At first, nothing happened; the cube seemed to merely absorb Loki’s spell, nullifying it. Then, it expanded with a sharp crack that fractured the counter, pulsing with blue light and making Tony start with a hissed curse. He blinked when it appeared to settle and dared to take a step closer, voice struggling not to waver as he asked, “Is it that it?—”

Tony saw white.

His head hurt, and his ears were ringing. His tongue stuck dryly to the roof of his mouth. He lifted a hand to the back of his head, wincing when it felt wet to the touch.

What the hell..?

Prying his eyelids open, he realized he was sprawled out on the floor. He dazedly took in the battered remains of his kitchen island. A few splintered shards from the cabinets below had exploded out, embedding themselves into the lower cabinets across the way, one of which was just shy of his right arm.

“Shit,” he groaned.

Something had happened. 

That blinding light—the closest thing Tony could compare it to was a supernova. It was blue at first, he recalled, tinged at the edges with Loki’s green magic, but as the ring of pure energy approached him, it turned white. Almost hot, yet impossibly cold. Rejection.

Gritting his teeth, Tony pushed himself up only to give up halfway, his back colliding against the cabinets behind him with a dull thud. “Lo–Loki?” he coughed.

A groan at his left answered him.

His head whipped toward the sound, vision whirling as he narrowed his eyes at the three Loki’s coming to from where they lay crumpled in the sink, long legs and arms spilling over its ledge. Blinking hard had them merging into one, and Tony noticed that the stove hood just overhead was damaged too. Loki must have hit it first and ricocheted into the sink. That couldn’t have felt good.

He winced in sympathy when Loki pushed himself up. 

The man looked haggard. 

A line of blood trickled down from his hairline and over his temple. His bottom lip was split, bruised and bleeding sluggishly. Thankfully, any wooden shards from the island seemed to have missed him as well.

“You good?” Tony asked.

“I’ve been worse,” Loki drawled.

Tony barked a laugh that quickly devolved into coughs. Sucking in another breath, his chest heaved, and he exhaled. “Fuck.”

“Isn’t it customary to buy me dinner first?”

“What—no,” he laughed. “Well, I mean, _yes_ , but no. Are you always this snarky when a spell blows up in your face?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“Touchė.” 

They grinned at one another, equally manic and charged.

“Well,” Tony began, ”it worked.”

“It did,” Loki answered, shaking out his now normally sized limbs before he hopped out of the sink. He strolled up to Tony and bent down to offer his hand. Tony took it. Once he was on his feet, however, Loki’s grip tightened.

“You recorded that. Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Tony asked. “When else am I going to get the chance to witness two sources of energy interacting and clashing together like that? That was amazing!”—Tony pulled out of Loki’s grip and began to pace, gesticulating animatedly as he spoke rapid-fire with his A.I.—”J, did you get all that? Initialize analysis. Separate Loki from the Tesseract if you can, I want to examine the _exact_ moment, down to the millisecond, when the two met. And I want a measurement of—”

“—Anthony.”

Tony barely paused. “Huh?”

He started when Loki’s fingers wrapped around his arm. He looked up at the mage, eyes wide to find Loki’s face so close to his own, cheeks dusted pink. 

“I owe you a great debt, Anthony Stark,” Loki intoned, serious, yet soft. Grateful. The sound of it made Tony’s face flame as he swallowed around sudden nerves.

“Well,” he laughed, “just, uh...let me use your rooftop garden plot to grow Frankenfruit and I’ll say we’re square.”

Loki’s lips curled. “You have a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes my favorite art ever! Tiny Loki holding a raspberry that's almost as big as he is! 😍😍😍
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed the read!


	4. Epilogue

Tony wiped the back of his gloved hand across his brow. 

He should have known Loki would lie to him—should have expected it.

The straw hat the man gave him did absolutely dick-diddly to keep out the heat. The damn holes around the rim let the sunlight bleed right through and onto his gradually reddening face. He huffed and pierced his trowel into the soil beside the plant he’d been tending before picking up and sucking down the iced raspberry lemonade Loki had made for them early that morning. When he nearly finished the glass, he stopped, exhaling sharply. 

Loki glanced his way, a smirk playing at his lips. “Good?”

“Refreshing,” he replied. “Can I get the pail?”

Wordlessly, Loki passed it to him.

It had been a gag gift to celebrate acquiring the apartment, one Tony thought Loki would throw away as soon as his back was turned, but Loki seemed to enjoy using the watering can adorned with tiny Iron Man helmets and sunflowers to tend to his garden plot.

Secretly, Tony was pleased.

“Thanks, Lokes.”

Loki hummed absentmindedly in response, too focused on meticulously pruning and weeding his blush-hued gardenias to pay much mind to Tony pulling out the red bandana he kept tucked away in his back pocket. He dipped the cloth into the water and wrung it out slightly. He then plucked off his hat, slapped the wet bandana on top of his head, and plopped the hat back over it, sighing as water ran rivets down his temples, neck, and spine, cooling him instantly.

“Why..?”

Tony’s eyes fluttered open (when had he closed them?) to give Loki a questioning look. “What?”

Loki gestured toward his head before snorting. He had to bring up a hand to cover his mouth as laughter began to shake his shoulders, making Tony pout.

“Don’t laugh! This is a perfectly reasonable thing to do.”

“Reasonable, sure,” Loki chuckled.

“No less reasonable than messing around with the cube.”

“Alright,” Loki intoned, dipping his head. “I can concede to that.”

Tony responded with a grin of his own before picking up his lemonade again, sucking down the remaining liquid as Loki gathered up his gardening debris. With his head bent down as it was, Loki’s next question sounded almost disinterested, though Tony knew that was far from the case. “How did Thor take it, then?”

“Well, he wasn’t exactly shocked,” Tony admitted with a shrug and a soft smile. And he really wasn’t. 

Thor had arrived in the penthouse shortly after Loki had regained his original size, although Loki had already long since gone into hiding with a hasty promise to return “Once the oaf stops sniffing around,” and it had only taken one look at the scene that greeted him to know that his brother had been there. His eyes met Tony’s then, and Tony honestly wasn’t sure how Thor would respond knowing full well that Tony had lied to his face. But, once again, Thor surprised him.

“I am glad my brother came to you, Friend Tony.”

“Uh—”

“Were you able to help him?”

“Yeah,” Tony stuttered, “yeah, Thor. I was able to help.”

Thor’s smile was nearly as blinding as the Tesseract had been. He strode forward to clap Tony on the back before gripping his shoulder and drawing him against his broad chest with a muffled “ _oof_ ” from the shorter man. With his face pressed against Thor’s sternum, he could feel the vibrations of his raucous laughter before Thor finally took pity and released him. His eyes were bright as he once again voiced his thanks before he departed with a wave and a knowing wink that brought heat to Tony’s cheeks.

Now, that same heat returned to his face. He brought the straw to his lips and groaned when he sucked up nothing but air and the vaguely lemony remains of melting ice cubes.

Loki refilled his glass with a wave of his hand, smirking at Tony’s appreciative coo before he asked, “He didn’t ask for my whereabouts?”

Tony shook his head as he drank. Then, swallowing, he explained, “No. He didn’t ask anything, really. Not about the wound on my head or my exploded kitchen. He just seemed...happy to know you were okay.”

An unreadable expression overtook Loki’s features. “I see.”

Tony shrugged again, allowing a comfortable silence to fill the space between them. 

“Your flowers are looking good, by the way,” he eventually said.

A small smile broke out across Loki’s lips. “Thank you,” he said, then pointed at Tony’s section of his garden. “Though your Frankenfruits need quite a bit of work.”

“Hey!” Tony cried. “They’re Frankentaters, first of all. Second, you mind your sprouts and I’ll mind mine.” He stuck his tongue out at the other man and Loki rolled his eyes at his childishness.

“I would if your plot didn’t look so dismally bare compared to mine. Just let me—”

“Says the guy who uses his green-thumb magic to make his flowers fuller. Oh, yeah. Don’t think I don’t notice you whispering spells to them. But me? I’m doing this the old fashioned way. Hands in the dirt, sweaty from the sun—”

“So that’s why they haven’t broken ground in three weeks.”

“They’re trying their best,” Tony said, pouting.

“Their best isn’t good enough,” Loki retorted.

They continued like that for nearly half an hour more until, in a fit of righteous fury, Tony whipped his bandana (and, subsequently, his hat) off his head and threw it at Loki only to freeze when it splayed across his entire face with a wet slap. Slowly, oh so slowly, Loki’s pale hand reached up to drag it down. 

Tony only needed to see a single twitching brow to realize how badly he was in for it. 

So, with a curse, he shot up and sprinted away, chest heaving with petrified laughter as Loki gave chase. 

When Loki inevitably caught him, they collapsed to the ground in a heap, panting.

Now on his back, Tony gazed up at Loki, taking in the slight flush muddling his pale cheeks that seemed to make the green of his eyes even more vibrant before giggling; though, soon enough, that giggling morphed into uncontrollable laughter. At first, Loki brows furrowed with confusion until he too caved to the laughter bubbling in his chest.

The kiss that followed was gentle and sweet, rimmed with the lemonade’s simple syrup.

Twining their fingers, Tony decided he could get used to it—sweet kisses, magical mishaps, and all.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end!! Thank you to everyone who took the time to read this little story and appreciated the art 😋
> 
> I want to give a special thank you to [ Snarkyship](https://snarkyship.tumblr.com). She only had to do one drawing for this bang, but she went above and beyond! I love every single piece she's drawn and I will definitely be rereading my own work just so I can re-experience every piece of art as they crop up in the fic.
> 
> And another special thank you to my beta, BrightEyesIllusionist!

**Author's Note:**

> I am so excited to start posting this fic! Don’t forget to leave a little love for my super talented and amazing artist snarkyship! (Pinky_Wisteria here on ao3!)


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